


Artemis

by RedIce



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 나 혼자만 레벨업 - 추공 | Solo Leveling | Only I Level Up - Chu-Gong, 나 혼자만 레벨업 | Solo Leveling (Webcomic)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedIce/pseuds/RedIce
Summary: 12 year old Harry Potter has defeated the basilisk. When exiting the chamber of Secrets, he finds Fawks is too weak to fly him out, so close to burning day he is. So does what he’s done all his life- to escape Harry Hunting, to hurt less when Vernon purples, to hide his few snake friends in the garden- he pulls on something inside him, and wishes.And magic pulls them somewhere safer, somewhere better.**In which in a world where Kamish won and California is dragon country, Harry Potter wakes to a human-less San Francisco in the aftermath of the chamber of secrets with a broken stick, a gaudy sword, a fat ghost-like chicken and no memory of how he got here.
Comments: 65
Kudos: 255





	1. Found Family

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130719) by [Araceil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araceil/pseuds/Araceil). 
  * Inspired by [Loyalty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429072) by [WhisperingDarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingDarkness/pseuds/WhisperingDarkness). 



The Freak wakes to giant claws flying him across the open sky. Freak would fall and try to get out of the hold, except he knows better and stays still. Plus, he’s not sure he would survive the fall. 

Below, there are giant dragons everywhere, gathering food and rolling on grass and chirping to each other. He spys a few smaller ones holding a fire-breathing competition. The land is devastated and gouged, building and houses half rubble. He spots no people.

Freak just wishes he was back in his cupboard. 

He’s approaching a vast awning holding a cutting figure of a massive dark garnet dragon eyeing the proceedings below him, a tail calmly swishing in time with the gusts of wind blown from his nostrils. 

The boy revises his judgement. The dragons he’s seen before have nothing on this giant guy.

Before he knows it, he’s gently plopping on a carpet of soft moss and bent grass. “My lord.”

The massive dragon peers a large eye over at the other dragon and then at Freak. Massive dragon double takes Freak’s messy, feathery hair, his draping robes, his taped together glasses.

Massive dragon booms, the voice making Freak’s ears hurt. He doesn’t mind, though. It’s nothing on aunt Petunia’s swings to his face with sizzling cast iron pans after he’s burned the bacon. “What is this? You dare bring a human here?”

“Did you forget what the humans have done to us?” The massive dragon tries to squish Freak to death, but the other dragon shields him with iolite scaled wings.

“My lord! Kamish, Sir! Please listen to this lowly servant! This one is different!”

Kamish swipes another angry claw. The other dragon flies a few dozen meters away, cradling Freak. Oh what fun. “Don’t-DO you hear anything telling you to kill him? My lord!”

Kamish halts mid-strike and a bit of fire escapes his muzzle. “I’m listening.”

The dragon on top of him huffs in relief, wings retracting to reveal Kamish’s wary and curious eyes. “Many thanks, my lord.”

“I told you to stop the ‘milord’ crap. You didn’t have any reservations calling me Kamish just a few seconds ago, did you?”

“No, K-k-k-k-k-”

“Oh, for Sovereign's sake, just call me Kami like you did when you were a wee pup. You can still say that, can you?”

“Yes, K-kami.”

“Better. Now what’s the deal with this _human_?”

Freak tries to meld into one with the ground, searching for a way to escape. He’s not very successful. The deep blue dragon just drags him back into place with a disapproving frown. He didn’t know dragons could frown. 

“I! I saw a turkey and wanted to eat it, but then I saw the human with a shiny pokey stick and the turkey disappeared. And I was going to eat it, but then I saw that the human was on fire! Like us!” The dragon bounces on his overgrown raptor claws. It’s a bit disturbing to watch. “So I took it here. It’s a bony human, anyway. It’ll just give me indigestion.”

“So instead of squashing the human like you’re supposed to, you brought it here?” Kamish blows a long suspire. When he opens his gleaming eyes again, Kamish is reaching a claw to grab Freak. The navy dragon unfurls his wings to protect Freak again. “Calm down, blazy-boy. I’m not going to kill him.”

The dragon above is still hesitant, but Kamish surprisingly gently scoops Freak up to eye level. Freak sits on the palm of the claw, feet dangling, holding tight on a talon. The blood red dragon peers a discerning eye over Freak. “You got a name, human?”

Oh. Freak knows the answer to this question. He trembles a bit, but musters up his courage. Maybe if he’s good they’ll let him go. Or eat him. That works too. “My name is Freak!”

The dragons look taken aback. “No.” Kamish half-smirks. “Nice try. I mean your real name, human.”

“Freak?” Freak is confused. Freak has always been Freak. Oh, wait! He’s also been Boy, or Useless, or Son of A Whore. The last one is a long one, though. Or Stupid, or Troublemaker, or Ungrateful Brat, or Deliquent, or Disgusting Faggot… now that he thinks about it, he has a lot of names. But he’s mostly Freak. Freak is his real name.

A pause. “How old are you, human?” Kamish is gentler now, for some reason. It was probably because Freak was good. Maybe he can go soon if he stays good. Freak doesn’t get his hopes up, though. He always messes up and is bad sooner or later.

The last Freak remembers is Dudley’s birthday, Freak decorating the cake he’s made the night before and pushing a kitchen chair to the stove so he can cook breakfast. Dudley’s balloons had the number 5, and Harry knows he’s Dudley’s age. 

“Freak is five!” The boy shows the dragon confidently with a hand, four fingers stretching out and thumb tucked into his palm. He knows how to count better than Dudley.

The dragons’ chests rumble like a car engine. 

“We’re keeping him.” The blue dragon’s wings ruffle. 

Kamish stares for a long time at the other dragon. He blinks, sighs, and turns to Freak, settling him down on the bouncy grass carpet. He’s glad he has solid ground below his feet, although he kind of liked sitting on Kamish’s warm claws. “Human, leave your human name behind. From now on, your name is Artemis. You are one of us.”

What? Does that mean that Frea-Artemis is not going? How was he bad?

The azure dragon swirls his tail in circles in celebration. 

“You bring him home, you feed him and wash him and pick up his poop. And for goodness sake, make sure he doesn’t start cutting down the forest and shoot up animals or whatever humans do to destroy the world these days.”

The blue dragon’s head bobbles so quickly Artemis is surprised it doesn’t give him whiplash.

“Got it, my lord! This servant will take good care of the human!”

“How many times did I tell you to call me something else?!”

Fr-Artemis has the feeling that he’s not going to return to his cozy cupboard anytime soon. It was a mistake to get up this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always find myself writing the weirdest fics? I suppose it's lock down madness finally seeping into my brain and becoming my alter ego.
> 
> Don't worry, the plot will pick up. I just have to set up dragon culture first. Canon and hunters will come around chapter 5.
> 
> Just imagine the hunters coming in to reclaim California go like :surprised: when they discover him chilling with the dragons


	2. It Takes a Village to Raise a Kin-Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t want him to cook, or clean, or tend the garden (there are no gardens? He was confused, but it doesn’t really matter). They just want him to eat some burnt grass (Artemis had to tell Alev that he’s sorry, but people don’t eat grass, even if it’s been cooked), sleep on warm rocks (again, warmed with fire) and play with younglings. It’s pretty fun, especially when the younglings start breathing fire on everything.

Alev, the dragon who picked him up and is apparently the son of Kamish, brings him to where he was found. 

Artemis lifts the gaudy sword in one hand, finding it as light as air. He has no idea what to do with the broken stick with a feather inside, though. And the turkey is nowhere to be seen. 

When Alev asks if he’s ready to return home, Artemis nods and climbs aboard Alev’s back, hanging onto the protruding horns for dear life. The first time he glanced at the dragons over the land, he was indeed not hallucinating. Artemis cannot tear his eyes from the scenes of happy townspeople (well, townsdragons) contrasting with the scorched earth.

“Home, sweet home.” Alev grunts. Artemis slides off, sword accidentally clanking on a scale on his way down. “Your habitacion is down in the forest. Let’s get washed off first.”

It looked like a previous national park, repurposed. A squirrel jumps away in fright when they touch down. Alev smashes a giant claw on the poor squirrel and gulps it down whole.

Artemis shivers, resolutely not looking at Alev’s giant claw marks on the tree. 

The dragon lips his chops. “Let’s get you washed up, and then I’ll let you eat something. What do humans eat? Do you eat meat?”

Alev lightly pushes him into a river, clothes, broken stick, sword and all. He throws the stick and the sword out of the water and flails back to land, shivering. 

“Alev!”

“Hmm? You done bathing?”

What? Oh. 

Artemis holds his breath in and dips himself back into the water, bracing for the chill. It’s not much different from getting hosed down, anyway. He lets the water engulf him up to his chin, and dunks his hair and then his face, scrubbing while at it. It’s cold. He hurries up and scrubs the rest of his body with his hands, walking back up to Alev and grabbing his objects. 

“I’m done, Alev sir.”

Alev bows and Artemis climbs on, grabbing tight. “No need for that. Just call me Alev for now, alright Artemis? Emis?”

Artemis nods into Alev’s horns.

**

Dragon enclaves are actually pretty nice. When he says nice, he means that they have shade! And they can heat stuff up instantly by fire! And they aren’t picky! And they are nice to him. Too nice. 

They don’t want him to cook, or clean, or tend the garden (there are no gardens? He was confused, but it doesn’t really matter). They just want him to eat some burnt grass (Artemis had to tell Alev that he’s sorry, but people don’t eat grass, even if it’s been cooked), sleep on warm rocks (again, warmed with fire) and play with younglings. It’s pretty fun, especially when the younglings start breathing fire on everything. 

Only the younglings and Alev treat him nicely, though. The other bigger dragons try to eat him sometimes and Alev comes in to save him. Artemis is glad there’s at least some normality. At least some people know better than to treat him like… other people he’s seen outside Number 4? The dragons treating him nicely probably don’t know he’s bad. 

Everyone calls him Emis, or Dragon Slayer, or something else Artemis can’t remember. On the upside, he’s getting better at dodging “errant” claws. Dudley’s gang of equally horizontal friends has helped him immensely at gaining dodging abilities. The newest murder attemps only make him even better. 

Alev is napping, again, with Artemis curling in the warm cocoon of the dragon’s front paws. The dragon told the boy to not go anywhere without him, but the raven haired boy had to wee. So he slips away a few meters away and finds a spot. 

Oh, yes. Dragons have no concept of nudity. When Alev realised that Artemis was wearing false skin, Alev just nosed him until he took everything off. Somehow, it’s shocking that he doesn't have any fur or scales or something else to protect him. Alev promised to protect him, so Artemis guesses that counts. 

The oversized robes, broken stick and glinty sword are all buried under the dirt under a rock. Artemis checks on it every once in a while, but nothing ever moves. Alev says that dragons don’t care much for sticks, shiny or not, unless they’re going to poke out eyes. 

Artemis finishes weeing. Leaves rustle, and a dragon a story tall appears from the underbush. Ah. A youngling. Alev says Artemis is also a youngling, but Artemis isn’t so sure. He doesn’t look anything like the other younglings.

“What are you doing here?” Artemis whisper-yells.

Ayden responds but nary a smirk. His gemstone eyes shine. The youngling tackles Artemis to the ground, gentle of his soft parts (which is everywhere). “You’ll see.”

Artemis stops tumbling around. “How about Alev? Shouldn’t I tell him?”  
  


“What for?”

“I’m not supposed to go anywhere without him.”

“Well, my ma says the same thing, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them. C’mon!”

Artemis still hesitates. 

“I did this tons before. Nobody will notice.”

The boy shuffles. 

“It’s a _fire breathing_ competition.”

This makes Artemis follow the boy. They trapeze the forest floor so loudly anyone with ears would hear them coming a kilometer away, but nobody’s noticed them so far. 

A few more minutes and they’re out in a clearing. Three other dragon younglings breathe fire in and out, attempting to shape prey and clouds and themselves with the flames. 

Artemis, starstruck, can’t help but want to join in. He’s not sure when the dragons will find out he’s bad and stop playing with him and ignore him, but for now he wants to enjoy what he has. He wants to join in. 

A wyvern rocks back and forth in preparation to exhale, but then spots Artemis. “Emis! I want to see your fire!”

Artemis finds himself in the middle of the circle, eager faces awaiting him. He wants to fit in, to be like the other younglings. 

Everyone else breathes fire. Alev said when he found Artemis, he was wreathed in fire. So he can breathe fire, too. Or, well, he should be able to breathe fire.

Inhaling, Artemis pulls on the fire inside him and breathes out. He waits a second. 

It doesn’t work. Nothing happens. 

Nobody says anything, though. They probably think he’s just getting ready. 

Okay. He tries again, closing his eyes. He focuses on how his core feels, the magic swirling and eager. Makes it travel from his heart to his skin. Thinks about how it felt when he woke up, confused and scared and wanting everything to stop. 

And breathes out. 

_Whoosh_. 

He doesn’t feel anything. The wind is picking up, rustling the autumn leaves. A stray wolf howls, long and low. Artemis opens his eyes. 

He’s covered in white, almost invisible flames, flickering playfully around him. Thankfully, the wildflowers around him are not burning. In fact, nothing is burning. 

Okay. Artemis breathes in again, and tries to shape Alev. The flames respond readily to him, siphoning off of his body. There’s a miniature Alev bashfully eating a bunny whole, an Alev sleeping, an Alev picking Artemis up by the scruff and throwing him in the air to catch him on his back. There’s an Alev rolling on the hills, snorting out little rings of smoke as he laughs. They’re dancing and playing and gamboling around, like Artemis is the eye of a hurricane. 

The other younglings barely have time to say anything before Artemis hears Alev’s bellow. “Emis!”

When Emis tears into the clearing, it’s just Artemis. His flames vanish, startled, just like how the younglings dived for cover and supposedly ran back to their homes. 

Artemis bows his head. He snuck out. Alev must be-

“Hey there, you’re not in trouble.”

What? That must be a lie.

Alev scoops him up to slide him on his head. “Let’s go back home, huh? Emis.”

“Okay.”  
  


Once they’re back at home, Alev bodily moving Artemis until he’s tucked safely under the curve of Alev’s chin, claw serving as a pillow, Alev rumbles once more before falling into sleep. “Remind me to teach you fire breathing later, Emis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that this fic is tagged as angst.


	3. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis follows the smoky trails of each ember as they fade. “Alev, why did the Absolute Being create two sides that were bound to fight?”
> 
> Alev chuckles. “Oh ho, you picked up on that one fast. What you asked is the very question you must answer to continue hearing the tale. Think long and hard, but not too hard. The answer, after all, is inside every one of us.”

Indeed, the very next day, Alev drags him to fire-bending practice, or whatever it’s called. 

There’s lots of familiar faces here flapping nervous wings in the same clearing they were the night before. 

“Alright, ALL WINGS READY?” Kamish, towering and resplendent, wings arching upwards, bellows far enough to echo across the valley. 

“ALL WINGS READY!” The younglings arch their wings in response, creating a draft strong enough to unbalance Artemis. 

Alev winks at the boy and then somehow melds into morning mist and …. straight up disappears. 

Artemis gulps. 

“Alright, pups! First things first… meditation.”

The pups groan in unison. 

“Don’t be like that! Meditation is the key to all aspects of life. Some of the most pivotal moments of your life will be when meditating.”

The boy lies down in the grass, focusing awareness on each part of his body, breathing deeply. Eventually, as promised, he loses awareness of his physical and gains awareness of his magical.

A ball of flame appears before him, white as a morning star. Fire dances and flares around the orb, vibrating with energy. Rings circle and intercross and disappear back into the orb, moving continuously. 

Artemis reaches for his energy. The energy reaches back, playful and chirping and full of light. 

The orb unfurls, revealing a magnificent blazing red bird, plumage full of fire. It is pale yet vivid, melding into darkness and light alike, flickering in time with his heartbeat, as if a ghost. It croons. 

The boy exhales in awe. The bird bows back. 

_ We are born by fire, forged by fire.  _

Artemis swallows. His fingers are catching the unburning fire, letting the flames lick up his skin. They are cool to the touch, like he’s dipping himself slowly into water.

_ We perish by fire. We reawaken by fire.  _

_ Carry the flames inside your heart. This is the one thing that must never die within you. _

Verdant eyes blink. He sees a reflection of himself in the bird’s blaze. His own eyes are aflame. 

And in another blink, Artemis is back on the clearing. 

**

“I suppose it’s time for you to feel the fires of history.”

Artemis has meditated dutifully every morning and evening, gaining glimpses of his energy and playing with the licking flames. He’s finally joined in with his friends on setting all things ablaze at any moment. 

It’s great fun. The most fun he’s ever had.

“Once.” Alev breathes out, his flames creating one large figure. “There was an Absolute Being. He was born of another world.”

“His world was of light and dark. One day, he split light and dark into sixteen. Eight became Rulers and eight became Monarchs.”

Alev breathes again, and shapes his flames to sixteen smaller figures, battling against each other. 

“The Absolute Being said to the Rulers, ‘Create life and peace.’ The Rulers set out into the world, creating life and peace.”

The flames now flicker so that tiny figures grow plants and run with animals, wild and beautiful and glowing. Their brightness almost blinds Artemis for a split second. Ashes, almost imperceptibly, drift down to the earth like snowflakes from the bright Rulers. 

“The Absolute Being said to the Monarchs, ‘Create destruction and war.’ The Monarchs set out into the world, creating destruction and war.”

The embers of figures from before reignite with a careful puff from Alev, the smoke painting hazy outlines of Monarchs rising from the dark of the ashes that were drifting down. 

“The Rulers, creating life and peace, were naturally aghast at the Monarchs, who created destruction and war. The Monarchs, creating destruction and war, grew angry at the Rulers, who created life and peace. No side could complete what they were born to do. And so, the Ruler and Monarchs fought bitterly and fiercely for eons.”

The dragon inhales a bit and then snorts forcefully, blowing out the figures of Rulers and Monarchs into the crisp night air. 

Artemis follows the smoky trails of each ember as they fade. “Alev, why did the Absolute Being create two sides that were bound to fight?”

Alev chuckles. “Oh ho, you picked up on that one fast. What you asked is the very question you must answer to continue hearing the tale. Think long and hard, but not too hard. The answer, after all, is inside every one of us.”

And Alev rolls over and snores. Guess it’s bedtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited to world building to get to where canon starts. This chapter and the subsequent chapters will have minimal scenes indirectly related to plot later on. Please excuse my lazy writing


	4. Cliffhanger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in a long time. Thought I'll just post what I have so I don't leave you readers in suspense

Over the months, Artemis’s skin, pale as a can of paint with a drop of red, burns and blisters and then tans, slowly blooming bronze, strong and ochre like the earth. He discovers how to catch rabbits and warm rocks by fire and fly. 

He learns how to breathe in the magic settling in the air and to blow his will into the wild energy. He spends his days roughhousing with pups, trying to keep his balance enough to touch the clouds, spitting water out his mouth while he diving into the ocean to herd schools of fish to shore. 

Artemis hopes to learn how to scoop fish into his mouth like Alev someday. When he does it, he’s too busy choking on saltwater to catch the fish. Alev laughs at him and then fans him dry by flapping huge gusts of wind. 

Artemis thinks that maybe what he and Alev have is something like a family. Artemis is not sure, though. But Artemis likes it. 

“Want to race over the mountain?” Alev rumbles.

Artemis nods. Reaches into himself. Breathes in the life energy buzzing around him. And exhales, moving his fire to the rhythm of the air currents. 

Trying to fly was disastrous the first dozen times. He almost burned Kamish more than once. Which was embarrassing, to say the least. Kamish just laughed. Sometimes Artemis thinks the resemblance between Kamish and Alev is too strong.

He’s glad he’s just like everybody else. He has wings. It’s inside him, a gentle curl of fire that unfurls into an inferno when he wakes it. He still doesn’t get why his fire is in the shape of a chicken, though. He doesn’t even like chicken.

Artemis opens his eyes. 

Alev grins. It puts all his sharpest teeth on display. How handsome. “Let’s go!”

The boy lifts, one with the wind, wheels of cold fire below him. And then he blasts energy below him. 

The air is clear. The water, below, glistens and waves. Each breath drives him faster and faster home. Until.

There are people, like him, with weird clothes and weirder weapons. 

“Alev?” Artemis yells over the wind. “Who are they?”

“Humans.” Alev growls. It’s the first time Artemis has ever heard that low of a snarl. “Artemis, go inside and don’t come out until I tell you to. No matter what happens. Don’t come out until  _ I _ tell you to.”

Artemis nods and ducks inside. But… there are other humans? What are they doing here? Are they dragon-humans like him?

Suddenly, he hears a battle cry. From his vantage point inside the cave, there are lots of flying machines with more humans approaching. 

The humans are not talking. They’re not even stopping to bow. They’re just… slaughtering everyone.

Artemis freezes. He can’t move. His heart beats so loud in his ears it’s the only thing he can hear. He can’t tear his eyes away from the utter massacre. He can spot many familiar wings on the field below the cave. 

There’s a heavily armed man battling Alev. Alev shrieks when a sword spears inside a wing. It spurs Artemis to action.

The boy sprints out of the cave. No way is he leaving Alev to die. He flies down, translucent fire hot and blazing ready around him. 

He lands in a tumble in front of Alev. “Leave Alev alone!” He yells. With all his might, he blasts a spectre of flames at the man.


	5. Sorry, Kami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis lets go, and falls. 
> 
> The boy smiles at the man’s widening eyes.

A few heads turn towards him. Good. It means that the men’s attacks halt, and Artemis readily takes this opportunity to bellow a warning up into the sky. Hopefully, there are still some survivors.

A choir echoes from all over the valley. The other pups will be safe, hopefully. He doesn’t dare think more.

With steel in his eyes, Artemis readies for another attack while the humans are distracted.

He inhales, and breathes flames, tendrils of fire licking at the razed ground, the bloody soil, against the magical barriers cast by dozens of men. 

Alev swipes at the man. The dragons are screaming, thrashing around, responding to the pain and anger and feral bloodlust thick in the air. 

The tank-like man regains his composure and barrels forward in his golden armor, bypassing him and cleaving Alev in one fell swing. 

Artemis feels cold. His heart beats loud in his ears, thrumming in his head, a roar building in his chest. He couldn’t stop the man. He couldn’t move at all.

No. 

No. No. Alev-

Alev isn’t moving. 

“Alev!” He wails into the fading inferno. As Alev’s last puff of fire dies out, ashes float onto his glittering blue scales, atop his dulling eyes. 

The smoke clears. Beyond him, the battlefield stretches kilometers, hundreds of his kinsmen falling and burning and being cut into pieces. The man evaluates him, and smirks, teeth pink with blood. 

His family- the one who took him in and gave him a home and sheltered him beneath his wings- dead. 

He turns to the man. His fire twists and snaps, funneling into a vortex of power. The air crackles, electrifying his hair on end. The man’s mouth moves, but he can’t hear anything above his howling fire tornado where he is the epicenter. 

_Burn._

And the power releases, blowing everything in a three-kilometer radius of him to smithereens. He has never felt this rage, this potent intent to kill. 

He feeds and feeds and feeds as his fire disintegrates the magical barriers and armor and men into ash. 

Yes. Burn. _Kill_ . **_Eat_ **. 

His inner fire fills him, up and up and fuller and fuller until he’s vibrating out of his skin.

The man that cleaved Alev barely hangs onto his sword that’s thrown into the blood-soaked soil. As the explosion’s shock waves die down, flakes of ash float down across the kilometers of decimated land in a parody of a snowstorm. 

It’s silent, except for his heavy panting. The air is thick with fumes and the zing of what soulfire still dances merrily upon the ashes, igniting and reigniting itself on it’s leftovers. 

Nothing is left but barren land: No trees, no men, no dragon. No Alev, with his resplendent iolite scales and handsomely sharp teeth. Not even a stray strand of hair is left incinerated. Just black soil, black smog, colour as deep as the void where Monarchs were born. And Artemis, in the middle of it all, golden skin almost white in contrast with the world.

There are five humans standing. They are all on their knees, but none of their heads bow. 

He stares at them. They stare at him, assessing, like a predator finding interesting prey.

“Are you huma-” The man who murdered his father dares to arrogantly inquire as he stands up and unroots his sword, as if Alev’s blood is not still warm on that very blade. 

Artemis opens his mouth to retort, but a shadow passes above him and before the boy can gasp, he’s grabbed by a claw and tossed onto a garnet dragon’s back. 

It’s Kamish. 

“Hold on tight, pup.” Kami growls, wings whipping the air as the dragon folds his wings to corkscrew down, and Artemis climbs his fire instructor’s spine scales against the wind resistance and gravity to perch on the head. 

As they reach the humans, Kami swings upside down and rips open his wings to sail right above them. Artemis sends a volley of fire cannonballs the size of his head towards the group of humans. 

Humans. In the end, it’s all humans. It’s humans who cut down the forests, who slay his kinsmen, who murder his family. 

The humans aim arrows full of mana and launch themselves to slice Kami’s scales with swords, but none penetrate the dragon’s magic-proof armor.

Artemis pulls harder on the fire inside him, and the next barrage of white-clear flames are so hot a meter of air around them waves like a mirage. 

All of the men dodge his offense, but the balls explode shrapnels of fire icicles upon impact. One spear of fire cuts into an olive-skinned man’s tricep, and the man’s entire arm and shoulder blisters and reddens, burned by the sheer temperature. 

Artemis doesn’t get to look for long, as Kamish flies up and over for another round. “I’m going to fire them up. Emis, you’re on defense.”

Artemis understands. The first time Kamish flew above the hunters was upside down, when Kamish’s more vulnerable underbelly and throat were facing the sky rather than the hunters. But now, as Kamish wants to use fire, Artemis must protect Kamish. 

Artemis understands. Kamish is putting his life in Emis’ young hands. 

Frantically, the boy reviews what little protective fire magic he remembers. A five-pronged formation for physical attacks, then a seven-star overlaid for heavy magical defense, but that doesn’t help with defending against pin-point magical attacks like the arrows earlier-

Kamish must recognize his student's panic. “Use unus-octo. Balance, Emis.”

Oh. One-eight. One absolute being. Eight rulers. Eight monarchs. Balance. 

Suddenly, Artemis gets it. What Alev’s story was about. It was a test, a litmus to see if Artemis understood the ultimate balance. 

There can be no life without death, no death without life. For creation to exist, there has to be destruction. For light, there has to be dark.

For there to be fertile spring ashes, there has to be death by a winter blaze. And fire- fire is both destruction and creation in one breath.

Fire is the essence of the universe itself. And dragons are nothing but fire bearers. Artemis is the son of a long line of fire bearers stretching from the beginnings of the world.

The wind whistles and his hair flutters, unbound and long, as Kami dives down again. There’s no more time. 

Hurriedly, Artemis digs his fingers between Kami’s scales for grip and erects an unus-octo with all his power left. He’s only ever seen it in a demonstration, and he severely hopes he’s gotten it right.

His magic thrums in exhaustion, overstrung and overtired from the earlier explosion and cannon fires. But he grits his teeth and pushes, squeezes out what fire inside him with all that he has. 

The barrier has to hold. 

Kamish swoops down. Artemis’s translucent wards glow over the entirety of the dragon’s belly and neck as the ormr lays blaze to the five that are still standing. 

But as the fire clears, Artemis sees that it was a trap. The five only allowed Kamish to breathe fire on a location they predicted, because they’ve learned that their attacks do nothing on Kamish if Artemis is there. 

The men allowed Kamish to attack, because they’re not targeting Kamish. They’re targeting Artemis. 

And Artemis has no defense.

In the one blink between the barrage of arrows slicing true to Artemis’ young, small body, a muscular Asian man wielding double dragon-headed swords follows up on the attack, jumping to the boy and swinging down, orange eyes narrowed in fury. 

Artemis does not have even a lick of magic to put up even the flimsiest of protecting wards for himself. So he doesn’t. 

Artemis lets go, and falls, just before the arrows hit.

The boy smiles at the man’s widening eyes.

Air whistles through his skin, through his long hair, though his fingers, faster and faster and faster. The fire inside him warbles something sad and slow. With sudden clarity, Artemis knows how this will end. 

_Sorry, Alev._

_Sorry, Kami._

_Goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Waltzes into class three months late with a coffee and sunglasses on* yo yo yo, how are y'all?
> 
> This is literally what happened when I wrote this chapter:
> 
> To myself: Hmm should I sprinkle in more intrigue? Or more murder?
> 
> Myself: More murder sounds fine. 
> 
> Me: Um how much more murder?
> 
> Myself: ALL THE MURDER. GENOCIDE MURDER. DOUBLE GENOCIDE MURDER AMOUNTS
> 
> Me: Alight, sounds lit *finger guns*


	6. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like some threats and bribes to make your mark talk

Liu Zhigang narrows his eyes at other S-rankers sizing each other up as his translator catches up with him. He’s been bribed and promised strong opponents by the United States Government. 

His translator pants, hands on his knees. “Please don’t move too quickly, Five-Star Liu.”

The S-ranker turns his gaze to the translator, and predictably, the man quakes and gulps. 

“I mean! Do as you want, Five-Star Liu. I’m sorry if I gave you a different impression.”

That’s better. With a huff, he flickers his attention from a slouching brown-haired American, to a brown-skinned Indian, to a thickly built blond American tanker, to a healer type quietly petting an orange tabby. Hm. They’re all strong, unlike the hundreds of “elite” hunters he’s passed on his way to this private lounge. He can taste the anticipation in the air. 

Liu Zhigang smirks, feeling his own bloodlust rise. 

He’s proven right when they enter Nevada. The gate breach’s creatures have taken over three states by this point: Nevada, Arizona, and California. 

It’s well known that the United States Government has been getting desperate as the civilian and hunter casualties mount higher and higher each day. If a guild takes back a mile of land one day, that land and more is retaken in a few scant hours by the rapidly multiplying dragon population. 

Hah. Of course, the United States mounts a full-scale attack by bribing the world’s hunters in quality and quantity. The best hunters of each country are here. But almost every hunter in the world is here, too.

The Chinese hunter surveys the fire-scarred land as the helicopter flies over mountains and lakes and forests of dragons squabbling with low-ranked hunters. The United States Government flies him right smack into California, where the most deadly beasts lie.

Let the battle commence.

**

The Chinese man exhales through his nose, serenely cleaving various dragons of all breeds in half. The beasts give ear-piercing screeches as they die.

How noisy. The animals can’t even die without irking him.

“Two-hundred and ten!” The brunet American crows, dodging a spray of blue arterial dragon blood.

“Two-hundred.” The blond American growls, stabbing a two-story water dragon in the heart and wrenching his sword out. “Twelve.”

The Indian scoffs, notches another dozen arrows in his bow, and lets the mana-infused metal fly true, piercing and felling fourteen dragons through the eye into the brain at once.

“Disgraceful.” Liu Zhigang mutters in Mandarin, wiping the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. Eugh. That didn’t help at all. It just smeared the blood all around.

After this dungeon, the United States Government better have hot showers on standby. Hot showers, no harping on hunters to go to medical, and a fresh change of clothes on hand. 

Absently, the muscular Asian decapitates another dragon, scanning the valley for the boss. Based on the dungeon break report, there should be a dragon boss the size of a few airplanes. 

Just when he’s unplucking his sword from an unlucky dragon’s stomach, a wail reverberates through the field. Liu Zhigang flips his head to watch as a naked boy with fire as wings fly down between a dragon and Thomas Andre. 

The boy is clearly reverberating raw magical power. The air around him is so concentrated with mana that it’s shivering like a mirage. 

Liu Zhigang licks his blood-coated lips, tasting rich smoke and the tickling heat of sparks of fire.

Finally, something amusing. Ne Zha reborn or not, the boy will prove an interesting distraction before he slaughters them all.

**

Artemis wakes to a prick to his arm. Flinching, he snaps open his eyes and throws himself backwards, limbs banging into the wooden interrogation room table he’s handcuffed to, magic swirling at the ready. 

“Relax, boy.” A young man in a suit sits at the other side of the table and smiles at him. The man’s English is American. There’s nobody else in the room, but he can feel the magical presences of a dozen more people just beyond the wall, all watching him.

Artemis warily eyes the man and doesn’t respond, instead choosing to curl his feet under his thighs on the chair so he’s semi-sitting, semi-squatting. He’s not supposed to talk to strangers. 

“Do you understand English?” The man's blue eyes peer at him, as if studying a particularly interesting specimen. Artemis decides that he doesn't like it. 

What the hell happened? How did he wake up here? He was with Kami, battling the human invaders, and then falling, falling-

Oh. 

He’s here. So just where is Kamish?

“Kami?” His voice is hoarse and weak, after not talking for so long. The “k” is muffled and soft, a wisp in the nonexistent breeze.

“Mommy?” The man asks, eyebrows rising. “You want to know where your mommy is?”

Mommy? Are they talking about Kami? Now that he thinks about it, if Alev was the father, then Kami with his mother henning and incessant reminders to do his homework sure fits the role of mommy. 

He’s surprised these humans know that much about him. Did they spy on him before they attacked?

He nods to the question. There’s no point in playing dumb.

But Alev. Oh, Alev. He misses Alev so much right now. He wants to snuggle under Alev’s large, warm wings and to hide forever. 

But Alev’s not here. Alev’s dead and turned to ashes by his hand.

At least Kami-he has to have hope that at least Kami is alive. “Kami.” Artemis repeats, eyes watering, emotion suddenly swelling in his chest. He tries to wipe away the eye sweat, but his hands are cuffed. He tugs on them once, twice, whining when he can’t get free and instead just hurts his wrists by the pulling.

“You’re not going to get free.” The man offers condescendingly, studying the boy’s reactions.

Artemis needs to return to Alev’s cave. He needs to go back home. He needs to see the beach where he and Alev fished dinner, the clearing where he was made to meditate for hours under Kami’s guidance, the forest where he first discovered his fire magic.

He needs to go back _home_. 

“Kami, Alev, please.” He whispers under his breath. Focuses on his breathing, on the fire inside him, on life and decay and everything in between.

But right before he could summon fire to meld the cuffs off his wrists, the man narrows his eyes, and with lightning speed, spears a paring knife in the space between the first and second fingers of his right hand. 

Artemis quavers, eyes wide and looking straight at the man, heart jumping in his sternum.

“Now, now. You’ve made me be all scary.” The man smiles again, and this time Artemis doesn’t trust it one bit. “All you have to do is answer some questions for me.”

What do these humans want from him, after they’ve taken everything away? When they’ve greedily killed all his family? Artemis’ frustration and desperation mounts. What can he do, what can he do to get away?

The silence stretches uncomfortably, until a door opens from where there was a seamless wall. An African American woman walks in, holding a stuffed snowy owl, as if by some invisible cue from the man.

From the moment the woman walked in, he can’t help but stare at the owl in her hands. It reminds him of something. Something incredibly good and fond and warm. But he doesn’t remember any owls. 

The man chuckles, like the cat’s got the canary. “I see I have your attention. If you answer my questions, you’ll get the stuffed animal. Deal?”

Artemis, eyes still on the owl, nods. The woman places the owl on the center of the table. 

Where was the feeling from? He feels so out of control. One moment, he’s trapped and heartbroken and sad. The next, he’s distracted by a stupid stuffed animal. Alev and Kami’s death wasn’t even on his mind the last few seconds. 

The boy licks his dry lips and focuses on counting the presences beyond the wall, careful not to look at the knife stuck upright in the wood between his splayed fingers. Two, four, six, ten-

“Good boy. Question one: are you human?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Artemis. Well, Artemis is going to be even worse off when he meets the S-rank hunters. *evil laughter* Good luck, Emis


	7. Reintegrating into Human Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring S-Rankers doing whatever they want, because what are you going to do? Call the police on them?

The man is just like the Dursleys: they eye him as something off, something non-human, something freakish. 

_ Freak!  _ Aunt Petunia’s shrieking voice calls out. The boy feels small and weak and scared, like how he was under the Dursley family’s purview. He feels the same way under these humans, too, and it’s easy to fall into the old habit of shrinking small, smaller,  _ smaller _ . 

“And how old are you?” The man’s stare brings him back to the present. The glaring monochrome of the room shocks him. Kamish asked him how old he was, too, before he took Freak in. Took Artemis in. 

How old is he? He’s the same age as Dudley. But how much time has passed? The seasons changed, he knows, from fall to winter to spring. It seems like so much time has passed, and yet not any time at all. 

Artemis shrugs, staring helplessly at the owl. The boy is cautious to not meet the man’s gaze. 

“Oh Adam, don’t be like that.” The woman’s heels click on the linoleum. Her English is American as well. “You’ll scare him off.”

Adam assesses the woman, and then chuckles, relaxing and leaning back into his chair. “I’m scaring him off? You’re welcome to go ahead, Miss. Selner.” 

Miss. Selner crouches next to his chair so that she’s eye-level with him. “You must be scared and confused, waking up here, huh?” 

Artemis turns to face the woman, but as he moves, he accidentally tugs on the cold, biting handcuffs. He frowns and tries to wriggle his hand loose again, tongue out in concentration. 

He feels trapped, and it’s making his heart pound anxiously in his ears. His hands shake, jittering, as he tugs harder and more. It hurts. He needs out. He needs to be free. 

Miss. Selner, watching his distress, makes an exaggerated put-up expression that adults do to teach emotions to kids. “Aw, and Mr. White was all mean to you, keeping you here and scaring you. Were you scared?”

Artemis hesitates from his frantic tugging, and nods imperceptibly. 

“Then you’re a very brave boy.” When Miss. Selner smiles, the skin around her eyes wrinkle. She plucks the paring knife from the table and passes it to Mr. White without a pause. “What’s your name, brave guy?”

His human name, or his dragon name? 

Oh, well. They’re humans, so they probably want his human name. 

“Freak.” He whispers. 

Based on the nice lady’s reaction, that’s not the right answer. Artemis quickly tries to repair the situation.

“Artemis.” He clears his parched throat. “Artemis.”

“What a nice name for a brave boy, Artemis.” The lady reassures. “My name is Norma Selner. And this grumpy guy is Adam White.”

Artemis pauses from fiddling with the handcuffs to greet them properly. He has manners. Aunt Petunia has ensured that much. “Nice to meet you, Miss Selner, Mr. White.” He bows his head.

And then returns to pull at the metal. 

He wants these  _ off _ .

“Nice to meet you too, Artemis.” Miss Selner grins. “I know you don’t like these cuffs. The faster you help us answer some questions, the faster scary Mr. White can take them off, alright? And the faster you can get to pet Mr. Owl and get some food and water, too.” She winks conspiratorially at him.

“Really?” 

“Really.” The woman promises. She leans in, whispering. “I’ll protect you from Adam, don’t you worry.”

The man, now identifiable as Adam White, clears his throat. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how old are you, Artemis?” The man’s demeanour is kinder, now. Less looking at him like a specimen. It makes him feel safer. And he also has Miss. Selner to protect him now, no matter how dubious her protection might be.

“I’m five?” He tilts his head, silently pleading for them to take off the cuffs. He jostles his wrists a bit more, stopping when he feels something warm and slick slide slowly down his ulna to drip gently on the floor.

Miss Selner gasps, her eyes tracking the blood once she’s heard the first soft splatter. “Oh, dearie. Adam! The keys!” 

Mr. Adam stands up and raps on the table one time long interspersed between two short knocks. The orange-haired man’s full height towers over Artemis. 

An industrial keychain appears in a slot on the wall, and the man stays silent as he uses the key to unlock the stained red cuffs.

“You’ve rubbed your wrists raw.” The African American woman frets once the cuffs crank loose from his flesh. “You’re so brave, Artemis. You didn’t even cry.”

Oh, how he wanted to cry. But he twitches his lips upwards in pride. He was brave. He didn’t cry.

The lady passes him the owl. “Take Mr. Owl, Artemis. He’ll make you feel better.”

Mr. White frowns. “Miss Selner-”

“Adam, remember the deal.” Adam doesn’t respond. “Now, if you have that much free time to question me, why don’t you get some bandages for little Artemis?”

“I’m not  _ four _ . I’m a  _ big  _ boy!” He corrects, pouting. Months with the dragons have instilled some kind of snark in him, the suicidal daring to be loud when he knows he should be quiet. If he were with the Dursleys. Well. He’s not. 

But Miss Selner doesn’t mind the interruption. She doesn’t mind it at all, beaming discretely like she’s won something and she knows it. “For big, brave Artemis.”

“Yes, Miss. Selner.”   
  


**

Fifteen minutes later finds Artemis uncuffed, legs swinging freely where he’s sat on the table, sipping water from a bottle Miss. Selner opened and is holding for him. A blanket is tucked securely around his shoulders, and the woman calmly rubs his back with one hand as a doctor disinfects his cuts.

“You’re doing good, Artemis.” Selner soothes when Artemis hisses at the pain. “See? You’re almost done.”

The doctor is none too gentle as he swabbs his right wrist with alcohol, holding the boy’s hand in a vice grip even when Artemis instinctually retracts his limb. 

“And we’re done.” As the doctor packs up and leaves, Miss. Selner tucks some of Artemis’ long hair behind his ear. The moment she touches his skin, she freezes, her eyes gaining a distant quality.

“Miss. Selner?” Artemis looks up, confused when she doesn’t move her hand for a few moments too long. 

Mr. White stands up and rushes to Miss. Selner. “What did you do?” He growls at Artemis, hand on the woman.

Artemis gulps. He didn’t do anything! But he can’t make the words come out his mouth. He can’t make any words come out his mouth.

The lady has been so kind to him, and now it’s his fault she’s like that. Artemis’ heart threatens to beat out his chest.

Luckily, once Mr. White pulls the woman away from Artemis, she gasps like a fish and comes back. 

“Miss. Selner.” Adam brusquely demands. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m quite alright.” She turns to the boy. “I’m going to have to talk with Mr. Adam about some boring adult stuff, Artemis. Be a good boy and sit tight. Someone will come and stay with you.” She assures.

He doesn’t want them to leave, not when they’re the only people he knows around this unfamiliar place. But he nods obediently.

“Good boy.” She encourages, and leaves. 

For a moment, it’s just Artemis in the room. He thinks about escaping, about dashing out and running all the way back home, to Alev’s hearth cave, no matter how far it is. He’s unchained now. He can find a way out by a window, any window-

A man barges into the room, banging the door into the wall so hard the floor cracks.

The man stares at him, and grins. “Yo, little mage. I’m breaking you out.”

And Artemis’ world twists and inverts as he’s hauled and carried out the room at breakneck speed like a bag of potatoes.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, critiques? Please leave them down below!


End file.
